


My Dog From Hell

by SeverusSnep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blindness, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Healing, Minor Violence, Wicca
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverusSnep/pseuds/SeverusSnep
Summary: A strange dog scratches at Hermione's door so she takes it in to keep as her own. Little does she know it's her former Potions Professor, but he's not exactly himself...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 26
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [corvusdraconis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvusdraconis/gifts).



> For Corvus: I hope you like it!! :)

Hermione heard a scratching noise come from her door. She hadn’t had a cat since Crooks, so she had no idea what it could be. She reached to turn off her radio before getting up from her seat at the kitchen table. She made her way to the front door with ease,

“Who’s there?” She asked loudly enough to be heard on the other side.

She was met with more scratching. She concluded that it must be some sort of animal. She opened the door slowly.

“Now what are you doing? Scratching at my door, what’s the matter?” She crooned, squating and reaching her arms out in front of herself.

Severus was stunned. He had found Granger? And what in Nimune’s name had happened to her? Her eyes were cloudy and glazed over. It was enchanting and terrifying all at once. She was blind. He so badly wanted to ask her what had happened, but it was a bit difficult while being stuck in the body of a damned Hell Hound (the result of a run-in with a fugitive Death Eater). His curiosity had expressed itself in a whimpering noise.

“Oh, I hear you there,” She held her arms out still, “It’s okay, you’re safe here,” she assured.

It was slightly terrifying how she could look him dead in the eyes and not even know it. He stepped forward out of the hot sunlight and gently brushed his head against her hand.

“Ah! There you are,” she chuckled, clearly surprised by the contact, “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you,” she promised.

He stepped forward just a bit more, and she ran her hands over him, assessing what was before her.

“So soft, yes you are rather cute aren’t you? Who lets a sweet dog like you just wander the streets, huh?” She asked, feeling the lack of a collar.

He would have laughed if he could. So far, everyone had either run screaming at the sight of him or merely pretended as though they hadn’t seen him and walked off very quickly. A dog hmm? He supposed he could be a dog. As long as she didn’t feel his tail (technically tails) just yet, he could keep up that charade. He supposed she might even think him to be a crup if she did, so it might not be so bad.

“Well why don’t we clean you up and get you inside, what do you say to that?” She asked.

He attempted a soft bark and it worked, at least it was good enough for her.

“Okay then!” She responded happily, and took out her wand.

Another whimper escaped him. He’d learned to fear wands coming out of nowhere.

“Oh no, I won’t hurt you. It’s okay. I’ve got to clean you up a bit with a spell, seeing as I’d not prefer to give you a bath,” she confessed.

He pressed his head against her hand, trying to tell her that it was okay. She nodded and he felt the tingly feeling of her cleansing charm blow through his fur. He felt much better, despite his paw still being in pain.

“Come on in, you. Now we’re going to have to figure a few things out. You need something to eat and you also need a name, but you’ve got to be patient with me,” she finished.

He barked again in agreement, hoping she’d understand him once again.

“Oooh you’re smart now aren’t you? What a good dog. And quite a deep bark so I take it you’re a boy?” She asked.

He finally let the timbre of his real bark come out.

“Ooh!” She was taken aback for a second, “ _Quite_ the deep bark. Guess you’re a _big_ boy,” she chuckled to herself.

He would have been blushing uncomfortably if he had been physically able, he was almost thankful for the dog body. Well, the glowing red eyes and multiple arrowhead tails he could do without, but the fur wasn’t all that bad. At least it kept him warm. 

“Well I think I have some leftover chicken from Mrs. Weasley, you could have that. It’s quite good, you don’t have to worry about that. Not that you would, being a dog and all. Honestly, I’m going to be the kind of person that talks to their dog all the time aren’t I?” She rested her hands on her waist for a minute before making her way to her refrigerator. She wasn't all that surprised that she had a refrigerator. She moved things around for a few seconds before pulling out a container with what looked like enough chicken for an entire family. She took a bowl from one of her cabinets and started scooping chicken into it. Once she had put in what she thought was enough, (he knew it wasn’t), she used a warming charm on it. She placed it on the ground for him. He figured she’d hear him pad over, but he took one step and cried out. Damn that paw.

“Oh! Are you okay? Oh no, you must be hurt. Poor thing!” She pitied.

She walked slowly toward where she heard the cry and he gently bumped her hand with his nose.

“Yes, there you are, what’s wrong love?” She asked.

He lifted his paw toward her, but lacked his usual dexterity. She took hold of his front leg and held it gently.

“Is this hurt?” She continued, “Let’s see, hmm?” She slowly worked her hands down until she had gingerly grasped his paw. She hadn’t really hurt him, but he figured he had to signal to her that that’s where it was. He whimpered. 

“Oh oh oh, I’m sorry. Let’s get this fixed huh? Now I’ve got to use my wand” she explained calmly, “but you know I won’t hurt you, okay?” She pledged.

She used a healing charm, and he held back another whimper. He was sure it had worked, and he was excited to walk without pain.

“Now is that better dear?” She asked.

He barked excitedly and ran around her, brushing her on purpose so she knew where he was. She laughed and replied,

“I’m so glad you feel better, why don’t you go have your supper?” She offered.

He had almost forgot! Oh Merlin did that chicken smell good. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten, and knowing it had come from Mrs. Weasley meant he was in for a treat (no pun intended). And oh boy, was he right. He didn’t know if the divinity of the chicken had anything to do with him being nearly starved, but he didn’t wait to figure it out. His bowl was empty in mere minutes. He pawed at the bowl, wondering if she would catch on.

“Oh you’re still hungry, are you?” She chuckled, “well we’ve got plenty of chicken, judging from how heavy the container is.” She guessed correctly.

She picked his bowl up from the floor and repeated the process before setting it back down. He waited impatiently, his paws jogging in place while he watched her fill his bowl again. She heard this and giggled,

“You’re a funny one…here you go,” she said as she placed down round two.

He made sure to wait until she stood up before thinking about gobbling it all down all over again. He paused, wondering how to thank her. An instinct kicked in. Her licked at her hand, earning another giggle, before going for the chicken.

“ _And_ you have such good manners! What a good boy!” She delighted.

He was glad that the message was communicated, but he couldn’t give it a second thought as he was currently in a fever from the chance to finally fill his belly. He ate he second helping down to the last perfectly prepared piece. He definitely felt better, but found that he could still eat more. He pawed at the bowl, wondering if she’d allow it.

“Awww, sweet thing. Why don’t we wait just a minute before having more? I don’t want you to get sick. Come here, love,” she called.

He came and sat right in front of her, filled with gratitude and (he would deny it if given the chance) food-driven obedience. He nosed at her hand.

“Good boy,” she praised and rubbed his head before squatting in front of him.

He realized she was about to find out just how big of a dog he was. He came up to her waist easily, but had previously lowered his head to nuzzle her hand. She continued to pet him, rubbing his ears, which he found out quickly that he loved. His leg started thumping the floor shamelessly. Merlin, that was good.

“You like that huh?” She laughed, “well let’s think of a name for you shall we?”.

He pushed his head against her hands to agree. She stood, filling his bowl with more chicken as she brainstormed a name for him.

“Hmmm… what about Rudy?” She offered.

He whimpered. Please not Rudy.

“That’s a no then,” she responded playfully.

“Well, with such a deep bark, and you do seem to be a large dog, you’d like something that sounds dignified then hmm?” She concluded, putting down the bowl.

He let out a small bark before going back for thirds. Oh, how good that chicken was!

“So smart, I assume you must have been someone’s pet. But as it is, you have no collar, you were hurt, and- Merlin! You’re so skinny!" She remarked as she ran her hands over him, "well that settles it. It’s someone else’s loss because you’re mine now and I’m going to take care of you. Poor thing, I hope you weren’t just thrown out…but a name…” she pondered.

“Eugene?” She offered.

Another whine. He did _not_ want to be called _Eugene_ , thank you very much.

“Hmmm… Bartholomew?” She asked weakly, not seeming sure of it herself.

He growled slightly that time.

“Okay boy, definitely not Bartholomew!” She guaranteed, “What about… Dragon? Ooh I like Dragon”.

He whimpered again, would she ever pick a decent name?

“You’re going to be difficult, are you?” She chuckled, “hard to please… you remind me of someone…” she trailed off.

He barked. Was she putting the pieces together? Wishful thinking, but maybe he could get her on the right track.

“Now what?” She asked curiously.

Silence.

“Okay then… Toby?” She tried.

Oh hell no. He growled louder, she had gotten on the right track, but in the wrong direction. He would not be cursed with his father’s name again.

“Woah there. No to Toby then. Something different… Mars?” She asked, “He is the god of war you know… that could be fitting…”

He whimpered. He didn't know what she meant by that, but he was getting tired of this. Pick a bloody name, Granger, but something fitting. Perhaps that was a tall task to ask of her, not that he could anyway.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake. I don’t know why I’m letting _you_ pick. You don’t like anything! You’re impossible!” She laughed, “Just like-… Sebastian! That’s it!” She rejoiced.

Close enough! He barked like mad and licked her hands. She laughed and laughed until she was fully on the floor and he was licking at her face. He stopped suddenly, realizing it was an odd thing to do, even if he was in dog form.

She sat up abruptly,

“Do you hear something, boy?” Seemingly confused by his halted affections.

He licked her hand, trying to let her know that everything was going to be okay. He figured it was the consequences of being a dog for some time now, but he felt protective of her now. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, of that he was adamantly decided.

“Awww, you are so sweet,” she commended.

He was glad she couldn’t see his tails wagging furiously, but then felt bad for whatever reason it was that she _couldn’t_ see.

“Well, Sebastian, oh that has a nice ring to it, I think it’s getting a bit late. Now I’ve already had supper, so I’m going to go shower, will you be a good boy?” She asked dubiously.

He barked and licked her hand, promising that he’d be good and he’d keep the house safe.

“I hope that means yes,” she giggled, “and I suppose I’m going to have to get used to you licking my hand so often,” she noted as she walked down the hall.

He curled up outside the door while she showered. He could hear the water running and was simultaneously listening to make sure she was okay, but also listening to make sure no one was outside. He noticed that she started singing in the shower, or it sounded somewhat like singing, but not entirely. It was beautiful anyway. His hearing was much better, as was his sense of smell. He realized there were quite a few perks of being a dog. Granted he couldn’t speak, cast spells, or brew potions; but he could get comfy anywhere, would get fed regularly (he trusted Granger’s altruism), and had a safe, warm home to live in. Or at least that’s what he told himself. He had no way of telling her that he was actually her former potions teacher, and it was easier than he would have expected to be able to resign himself to be her unofficial ‘seeing-eye-dog’. Life couldn’t be that bad. No one would suspect him, well there was the problem of being a Hell Hound, but she seemed to live in the middle of nowhere which was another bonus. How he found her house, he’d never know.

The water stopped running. He was on his feet-no, his paws in an instant. He listened carefully and could hear the ambient noise of her drying off, still humming to herself. He had to understand she clearly wasn’t incapable of taking care of herself. Her being blind didn’t mean she couldn’t be independent. Obviously, as if living in the middle of nowhere didn’t already prove that. She didn’t need to be constantly watched as if she were a two year old, yet he couldn’t help but feel compelled to do just that. On the off chance that she slipped or couldn’t remember where she put something, he’d be ready. Then again, she’d be the one to heal herself or simply summon whatever it was that she wanted, but it couldn’t hurt to look out for her a little extra.

The door opened and he stood out of her way, nosing her hand to let her know he was there.

“Oh, thank you. So sweet” she smiled and patted his head quickly, readjusting the towel around her.

She walked to what he assumed was her bedroom where he assumed she would be getting changed. He did not follow. He waited until she came out, dressed in pajamas, before walking alongside her to her sitting room. He brushed against her lightly so she knew he was there.

“You’re so good Sebastian,” she remarked, “You know, dogs never seem to like me. Well I’ve always been more of a cat person. Maybe they could smell it on me,” she chuckled as she sat in her chair.

He laid his head down on top of her foot.

“Good boy,” she murmured, “I think this is going to work out just fine”.

She summoned her radio and put it on the table next to her chair. She turned it on and they listened to some strange yet captivating music for a while before she stretched and yawned. Time for her to go to bed. He nosed her slippered foot.

“Oh, I know. Bedtime huh?” She guessed correctly once again, “Oh, and you are not allowed on my bed.” She chuckled to herself.

He, of course, would comply with her rules. She was letting his stay with her after all. So no bed for him, well at least not hers. He hoped she had a rug or something a bit less cold than just the floor to sleep on. He followed her into her bedroom.

“Now I’m going to get into bed, but you can lay here on the rug, okay?” She directed.

He nosed her hand to say that he understood. Merlin, he was grateful for the rug. It was soft and warm, perhaps a little small, but he wouldn’t complain (not that he could). He laid himself down and listened to her muttering softly to herself until her breathing evened out and he presumed her to be asleep. He wondered what the hell she had been doing, but perhaps it was a habit of some sort. He severely doubted that she was religious. It was after he knew she was asleep that he allowed his guard down slightly, just enough for sleep to come for him as well.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up to the sound of her moving around somewhere above him. He got up to see her stretching in bed. She was too far away to touch with his nose and he didn’t want to bark at her. Perfect timing, actually, since nature was calling. His whine came easily.

“Good morning, boy,” she greeted sleepily, “You’ve probably got to go out huh?” She asked.

She scooted to the edge of her bed and he stood beside her, putting his head on top of her hand. It didn’t seem to surprise her.

“Mmm, such a good boy, Sebastian” she praised.

She walked to her kitchen, and he vaguely remembered seeing another door in there.

“Okay you, now I’m going to let you out to do your business. Whether you choose to come back is up to you. Should you choose to run off, understand that you're forfeiting a warm home, a bed, food, and plenty of love. So here we go,” she reminded as she opened the door.

He licked her hand, trying to tell her that he would never run off on her. She chuckled at the newly established method of affection. He jogged out the door and did his thing, somewhat thankful once again that she couldn’t see him doing it. Once he finished, his body did an involuntary shake and he came running back, licking at her hand happily.

“Awww, you came back!” She greeted, clearly quite happy with his decision, "you know, I had a feeling you would. At least for Mrs. Weasley’s chicken,” she giggled.

He nuzzled her hand, telling her that he came back for her, and that he always would. He watched as she closed the door, a smile still spread across her face. He wondered what he could do to see that lovely smile as often as he could. He could feel that same tingle of a cleansing charm blowing through his fur. She had done it quite subtly too. He could definitely get used to this. 

“Breakfast time, Sebastian!” She announced.

He couldn’t help but fall in love with her in that exact moment. Something about the simple domesticity mixed with the trust that she had immediately placed in him. It made him feel warm and fuzzy. She was so sweet, she had healed him, she had cleaned him, fed him, let him sleep on her rug, and she also seemed to know right where to scratch behind his ears. She was right, this was going to work out just fine. He gently bumped his head against her leg to tell her that he was there.

“Oh, I know you’re there!” she laughed, “You’re probably quite hungry aren’t you? You’ll have to forgive me for being a bit slow this morning, I’m still a bit tired,” she yawned.

He’d forgive her until the end of time, that is if she would put the darn bowl on the floor. His stomach was yelling at him for food. It wasn’t long before she did just that, and all was forgiven. He tucked into his food with the same fervor from the previous night. Once he was done, he pawed at his bowl again.

“Still hungry boy?” She asked, “Perhaps I ought to fill the bowl a bit more for you hmm?”.

Yes, yes please that would be wonderful. He waited restlessly for his second helping. He started to wonder if perhaps he should try not to eat so much, surely she needed it too. His thought was cut off by her talking to him,

“It’s a good thing you like this chicken Sebastian, I don’t eat much meat anyway and I’m glad it won’t go to waste,” She smiled and he suddenly forgot all about his worries of eating all of her chicken.

He was glad, he certainly didn’t want to be eating all of her food, well not if she minded anyway. Their relationship seemed as though it would end up being quite symbiotic. He’d protect her and help her if she needed it and she’d provide food. Technically it was much more than that, but those were the roots; and those roots were strong. He forgot about roots quickly as she put the heaping bowl of chicken onto the floor for him. That was a thing of beauty. He tried desperately not to down it all at once, but that was a lost cause. He ate his fill and decided he could probably make it until dinner this time.

There was a knock at the door. He barked once. Who had the nerve to disturb her? He wasn’t sure if he should try to hide himself or defend her. It very well could be one of her friends, but it could also be some stranger meaning her nothing but harm.

“It’s okay Sebastian. I’ve got the door” she assured.

He stayed in the kitchen, but peeked around to watch her as much as he could without being obvious. She opened the door and he didn’t recognize the man standing there. His hackled became raised. He didn’t like the look on that man’s face. It looked made her look like his unsuspecting prey. He listened carefully for any signs of distress from her.

“Hermione! Hi, it’s me” he greeted.

“Jack, hello! Can I help you with something?” She asked, not sounding too interested.

“Well, actually I was coming to see if you needed anything, dear,” he stated.

He watched the stranger step into the house and put his arm around Granger. If only he could see her face. He suppressed a growl.

“Oh,” she sounded slightly irritated, “Well I’m fine really, but thank you,” her voice wobbled just barely.

He didn’t like it. This _Jack_ was making her uncomfortable, he could tell that much. This would end soon. He didn’t mind having a little bit of _Jack_ for breakfast. He probably wouldn't taste very good, but it would get the message across. The message being: _don’t **fucking** touch his owner_. In this instance, he didn’t mind referring to her as his owner considering she wasn’t _his_ anything else. 

“You’re sure, Hermione?” Jack’s hand started to travel downward in a way that made Severus bare his teeth, “You don’t need _anything_?” He continued.

“Jack, stop” she warned.

That was it. Severus broke loose and bolted for the door, growling fiercely and barking at this _Jack_ that had dared to touch Granger. Jack let out a yelp, clearly afraid as he should be.

“Sebastian!” She seemed to have almost forgotten that he was there. 

Her tone didn’t seem as though she was trying to hold him back. He bit into Jack’s leg and shook his head, feeling the flesh tear. He let go, not wanting to do too much damage, even if the scoundrel deserved it. Jack’s howls of pain and fear were more satisfying than breakfast. Severus could have laughed as Jack pleaded for Hermione to help him. Jack didn’t miss his cue to yell the usual “what the hell is that thing?!” either. Severus watched in glee as Jack took off down the road, not to be returning for some time, if at all. Or so Severus hoped. He would see to it that he didn’t.

“Sebastian,” she sounded worried, yet relieved.

He turned to see she was now sitting on the floor. He knew he’d be heavy on her lap, but he laid himself half on her anyway. He licked at her hands and wagged his tails, hopeful that she would be okay.

“You’re such a good boy,” she chuckled tearfully while petting him, “Thank you” she whispered.

He stayed still while she buried her face into his fur and shook slightly with a few stray sobs. His heart broke for her, but she was safe now. He wondered if he should have come to her sooner. He hadn’t wanted to go feral before it was completely necessary, even if he hated the stranger from the minute he had laid his glowing scarlet eyes on him. It was only a few minutes later when she lifted her head from him and he heard her soft sniffles. He lifted his head and licked at her face. She giggled. What a beautiful sound.

“I’m okay Sebastian. Just a bit shaken is all. Thank to you my love,” she breathed.

Her what? His tails thumped the floor beside her with joy. He could already feel the urge to prance about the house with his newfound pride at feeling like her hero. Perhaps this was why dogs were so insufferable? It was easy to get overly excited about so very little.

“You’re quite ferocious, huh?” She giggled, “Come on, why don’t we get up?” She suggested.

He got up quickly and nosed at her hand. She used him to steady herself as she got up.

“Such a gentleman, thank you,” she admired, smiling brightly once again.

He followed her into her sitting room where she sat down on what he guessed would be her usual chair. He laid his head at her feet, always making contact so she knew where he was. She turned on the radio, and they listened to that strange, beautiful until her stomach grumbled.

“Ooh. I suppose that means lunch,” she said to herself.

He got up with her and watched her make lunch for herself. She was quite good in the kitchen, and he wasn’t even considering her visual impairment. She was simply _good_ , and there was no denying it. He figured she would have an easier time if she could see, but it certainly didn’t impair her ability to make his mouth water at the smell of her food that wafted through the kitchen. Maybe he couldn’t make it until dinner. He whined nervously, hoping she wouldn’t mind feeding him again.

“Alright there, boy?” She asked.

He pawed gently at her feet and pressed his head against her hand.

“Hungry again, is that it?” She inquired.

He whined. Yes, Granger, I am hungry. I’m sorry, but I thought I could make it until dinner.

“Oh it’s okay Sebastian, I’ll get you more. Don’t you worry. We were interrupted at breakfast…”.

She set her lunch at the table and he couldn’t help but eye it. 

“Don’t you go eating my lunch now,” she warned playfully.

She couldn’t have seen him looking at it? Well, she did think he was a dog, so he supposed it made sense for her to not completely trust him with food. He didn’t completely trust himself with it either. 

He vowed not to touch it, no matter how good it looked. He was distracted from _definitely not looking at her lunch_ by the smell of that heavenly chicken. Another heaping bowl was placed on the floor for him. He licked her hand lightly to thank her. He couldn't imagine she wanted dog saliva on her hands all the time, but he didn’t know how else to thank her. She just smiled at him, patted his head, and wiped her hand off on the back of her jeans. They both ate their lunches in blissful silence, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. He could hear the birds singing outside and feel a soft breeze that came in through the window. Certainly this wasn’t what his assailant had imagined for him when he had cursed Severus. He was glad of it.

With full stomachs, they retired once again to her sitting room where the air was filled with that sweet beguiling music. He hoped this would be their regular routine: having meals together, listening to her music, him resting his head on her slippers while she sat in her chair. Everything was right in the world. They both dozed off for a while, and were only awakened by the more obvious sign of her hunger. She placed a hand over her stomach.

“What do you say Sebastian?” She asked, “are you ready for supper as well?”

He gave a soft bark. He most definitely was ready for supper, and he had an inkling that he knew exactly what it was going to be. That was just fine by him. Supper came and went, and before the knew it, so had the day. 

They were getting ready for bed and he found that he was quite happy with their routine, even if it had been mildly monotonous so far. He liked the security of it. That wasn’t something he’d ever really had. It was comforting to know what was coming next.

The next day, she decided they would go for a walk. He was nervous, but hoped that they wouldn’t encounter many people. She had conjured a lead and collar that both ended up being black. He wondered how much influence her eyesight had over that, but it didn’t bother him. She wasn’t aware that black was his usual preferred color. 

There had been three people in total that they had passed. The first did a double take and walked off quickly. The second stopped dead in his tracks and his jaw hit the ground, but he hadn’t said anything. The _third_ ; however, had exclaimed something along the lines of who in their right mind would own such a horrible beast. Granger had simply huffed and continued walking.

“I guess to others you might not be the prettiest dog,” she assumed, “but you’re perfect to me, Sebastian,” she complimented.

His tails wagged ecstatically for a while after that. He felt so proud that she didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He was enough for her, and that was enough for him. Eventually they made their way back home. She rested at the kitchen table with a glass of water. He made a beeline for his water bowl. She put the usual food down for him and he did what he usually did to it. After they were both done eating, a knock came from the door. His hackles raised once again, remembering the last time someone had knocked. She went to get the door and he followed closely behind. It was Potter and Weasley, great. They both nearly jumped out of their skin when they saw him.

“Blimey Hermione! What are you doing keeping a thing like that in the house?” Ron yelped. 

Severus watched as Potter silently agreed, wringing his hands.

“He’s my dog!” She replied cheerfully, “and he’s great! I named him Sebastian,” she smiled.

“Well, he’s a bloody brute…” Ron mumbled.

“You leave him be!” Hermione warned, “I love him and he’s a good boy so just drop it,” she responded.

At least Potter had the sense to stay quiet about it. Severus watched as Potter extended a hand and gently placed it on Hermione’s shoulder. She eased into it.

“If you like him, so do I. I mean he does look quite scary, Hermione, but if you say he’s good then he’s good,” Harry assured.

She smiled and folded herself into him for a hug. Ron muttered about how his mum had sent more food. Severus kept an eye on the Weasley boy while he deposited what would most likely be Severus’ next round of meals into Granger’s refrigerator. Of course she had a refrigerator. Severus stalked into the sitting room to lie down while they all chatted in her kitchen. He was glad that he could still scare them, even if he knew he probably wouldn't have to. He trusted Potter with her, but he wasn’t so sure about the Weasley boy. He looked at her almost the same way Jack had, yet he figured nothing would come of it so long as Potter was around. Or so he hoped. He would still keep an eye out for her.

They talked and ate until the sun had gone down. It hadn’t been too unpleasant, they weren’t exceptionally loud and Weasley decided to not be exceptionally obnoxious. Potter made some remark about how they should let her get to bed, and for once, Severus agreed with the boy. They _should_ let her get to bed, and let _them_ get back to their schedule of meals, walks, and listening to music.


	3. Chapter 3

He was becoming a bit possessive, that he knew, but if she was going to be of the false mindset that he was her pet, then he supposed it was only fair for him to think of her as his. At least that’s how he liked to rationalize it in his mind. 

Potter stood and hugged her briefly, telling her that he’s come back next week if she wasn’t busy. Everything was going according to plan, if only Weasley would leave and then they could go to bed. Of course not, Weasley said his goodbye to Potter and stayed, asking Hermione if she’d changed her mind yet.

“Ron, what are you talking about? There’s nothing to change,” she responded.

“But ‘Mione, we were supposed to be together. Just because you’re blind doesn’t mean I don’t still want you,” he protested.

“I’m not blind, Ron! But _you_ are… I told you no, it was just a schoolgirl crush. We’re only friends, please don’t ruin that…” she pleaded.

“You’re the one ruining it! I’ve been waiting for you!” He was starting to yell and Severus didn’t like it. The low growl coming from her sitting room went unnoticed.

“Ron, we’ve already talked about this, just _stop_ —Ron!”

Severus didn’t need to see what the imbecile had done, he was already on the red-haired boy. He was snarling and snapping in his face as he pinned him to the floor with his sizable paws.

“‘Mione get this bloody thing off me!” Ron screamed, fear present in his voice.

“Sebastian,” she said calmly. He stood down.

Ron got up, but didn’t dare try to come between Hermione and her “beast”.

“That thing is horrifying, I don’t think you’d keep it if you saw what it looked like,” he warned, his voice trembling.

“Sebastian is a good dog, Ron. I don’t care if you think—“

“Hermione that’s no ordinary dog…” Ron stammered, “and it creeps Harry out too, no matter what he says.”

“What do you mean, he’s perfectly normal, albeit a bit big but that doesn’t mean-“

“Big?! He’s colossal! And I can overlook how big he is, but the two tails and the glowing eyes? It’s a bit much!” Ron was shaking now.

“Glowing eyes?” Hermione asked, disbelieving.

“Yes! And two tails with the pointed tips! It’s Satanic!” Ron cried.

Severus started to growl again, he’d had enough of this. Ron ran out of her house, a yell caught in his throat.

“Two tails, huh Sebastian? Now how come I didn’t notice that?” She chuckled, “Maybe you’re some kind of huge Crup?” She contemplated. “Although glowing eyes? Never heard of a Crup with those…hmmm, I guess that’s why everyone is so afraid of you!” She laughed.

He pressed his head against her hand and she patted him before sitting again at her kitchen table.

“Let’s see about that tail…” She pet down his neck and back, letting out a noise of surprise when her hands found two tails with arrowhead tips at the end. Rather sharp as well.

“I guess so… Satanic huh? So you’re my Hell Hound now, is that it?” She asked.

He barked and licked at her hands. She laughed and patted his head,

“No wonder.”

She stood and walked over to her bookshelves, running her hand along the spines. Was she not blind? She certainly seemed it, but perhaps she wasn’t entirely blind. He saw her muttering something to herself when one of the books came out from the shelf beside her. As if knowing exactly where it was, she grabbed it and then opened it. Still muttering something to herself, she placed her hand on the page and the book started to glow a faint golden color. 

“Aha!” Came her voice, “Now Ron may think me to be blind, but I don’t need eyes to see. Granted, I may bump into my chairs from time to time, but I’m not incapable of doing what I’m best at.” She seemed to be talking to him.

He came closer to her, what book was she holding? He couldn’t see the title.

“Sebastian, you’re there aren’t you?” She inquired.

He nudged her leg with his head.

“It’s no accident that you’re so smart is it?”

He barked.

“I didn’t think so. Hell Hounds don’t just walk around… nonetheless let themselves be adopted by humans. But you’re no Hell Hound are you?”

He barked again, now she was getting it.

“I so badly wanted to believe you had been someone’s pet and that you were just simply intuitive, but I think you’re far more than that. Now I don’t know who you are, or if you found me on purpose, but I’m no dimwit. I suppose it’s time I give you the opportunity to choose your own path.”

He was getting excited, but he didn’t know why. Wouldn’t this mean he would have to leave?

“This is either going to blow up in my face, and I’ll be left with some sort of demon in my house, or you’re a person. Either way, here goes nothing—“ She started to chant some sort of spell. At least he thought it was a spell.

He felt himself get taller, and colder. Before he could understand what she had done, he was looking at his own hands again. He was himself. No fur, no tail, no large fangs. That was no regular magic.

“Granger,” he murmured, amazed at what she had just done.

“You!” She sounded pleasantly surprised. He wanted to laugh but he didn’t.

“Yes, it’s me,” he admitted.

He didn’t understand how she knew exactly where he was as she slid her arms under his and wrapped them around his torso.

“I had a feeling…” she mumbled.

“What do you mean?” He asked, shocked.

She looked him right in the eyes before speaking,

“Why do you think I gave you the name you had? I hope you appreciated the similarity,” she smirked, “then the deep bark and how _tall_ for a dog you were. It just made some sort of sense. Your personality just fit. I mean, had I _actually_ known it was you, I would have changed you back in a heartbeat, I just thought I was being overly hopeful.”

He felt he couldn't speak as long as she was looking at him, but he had to say something.

“I— Granger—“

“Hermione,” She corrected.

“Hermione… can you see me?” He asked shyly.

“Of course I can see you, just not the way you’d think.” She sounded as if she was talking to a child, the way she made it sound so obvious.

“You’re not blind?” He asked, incredulously.

“Oh yes, I am blind, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see.” She spoke again as if it was obvious.

“So you saw what I looked like?” He asked.

“No, I saw who you are. I knew you looked familiar, but it wasn’t as though I could see your face.”

“Gra—Hermione, I don’t follow,” he confessed.

She paused a moment, and appeared to be in deep contemplation before she responded,

“Bellatrix… You do know what happened at Malfoy Manor?” 

“I’ve heard some things…” He admitted solemnly.

She rolled up her sleeve and showed him what had been carved into her arm. She heard him gasp.

“I thought she was just, you know, being her usual charming self when she decided to give me this souvenir. It turns out the knife was cursed. I thought I was finally having to deal with the ramifications of having my nose in books for so long. I got glasses, but my vision kept getting worse and worse, and that’s when I realized what she’d done,” she explained.

“But you can still see?”

“Not because of her, because of my parents actually. Are you familiar with the Wiccans?”

“Merlin yes, but that’s not exactly—“

“No, it’s not magic as _you_ know it. My parents were part of a very small coven, not exactly Wiccan, but somewhat close. They were confused when Professor McGonagall showed up to the house to inform them that I was a witch. It just wasn’t for the reason that anyone would have suspected. They already knew I was a witch, they had raised me to be one. It just turned out that I also had powers. They were so proud. I’ve been using a combination of their spells as well as some of the magic that you and I know to produce a sort of effect. I can see, but not with my eyes exactly.”

He was astounded, and struggling for words.

“The strange music?”

She nodded.

“And the muttering and singing?” Things were making sense now. No wonder she always seemed to know when he was near her. She had been blinded, but some sort of magic had allowed her a different kind of sight.

She nodded again, but chucked a little.

“Muttering, not so much. Casting is what my parents liked to call it. Singing sometimes helped to elevate it, and the music is special to us. We don’t have a Book of Shadows or celebrate Sabbats, but we do have rituals and certain festivals that correspond with the seasons. It’s summer so my spellwork is more effective because of the sun. I can see better in the light. I’m not completely blind, I mean if you were to stand in front of the window I would see your silhouette, but not much more.”

“That’s incredible, I never thought those sorts of things worked. I’d heard about them, but I just thought… I don’t know…”

“It’s okay, some people think they’re cults or just crazy. And some probably are!” She laughed, “but my parents knew what they were doing. It wasn’t magic like you and I can do, it’s different. It has to do with something different. It’s not something in their blood, it was a choice they made to open themselves to a different possibility. You could do it too if you really wanted, if you could be vulnerable to what nature should give you.”

“Hermione, you’re-that's... incredible,” he marveled. 

“Do you want to stay?” She asked.

“What?” He was surprised. Stay? He figured she’d kick him out as soon as she knew it was him.

“I know you’re a solitary person, but I’ve loved having you here. I think conversation might be nice too,” she chuckled.

“You’d let me?”

“Of course!” She assured, “We already do everything together, and you _are_ a pretty good guard-dog,” she teased.

She opened her arms as soon as he went in to hug her. He could hardly believe what he’d heard. This was all so new and intriguing. He wanted to learn about this different kind of magic. He held her firmly in his arms and she nuzzled into him, not entirely unlike what he would do to her.

“Just one rule.” She stated.

“Anything.”

“No more licking my hands,” she giggled.

He swept her up off her feet and growled playfully at her while she laughed. He set her down after he was done spinning her around. She still held onto him and he didn’t mind one bit.  
“I want to learn,” he proclaimed.

“You can, but it’s not going to be easy. You can’t expect it to be like the magic you’re familiar with. You’ve got to let yourself be open… and vulnerable… she’ll know if you aren’t.”

“Who will?” He was worried.

“She doesn’t have just one name, but most Wiccans call her the Mother Goddess. My parents weren’t religious, and neither am I. We don’t think she’s a person or some supernatural being. More of a force, more like… energy. I say, ‘she’ because it’s familiar and respectful. She’ll know if you aren’t open to her,” Hermione explained, “it’s okay to be skeptical.” She said it as if she could sense what he was feeling. “Our magic is something we already have, something we can hone. But with _her_ , you have to let her come to you. I leave out offerings every week to show gratitude. It’s like a relationship, there’s some give and take.” He stretched her hand out to him.

He took it. He watched as she murmured under her breath. A soft white light encircled them. His jaw dropped slightly.“Pretty, isn’t it? I asked for some light, she responded. You work with what you get, and I can use my own magic to help as well. She directed the light around with her wand and with a soft wave, the light left, no longer needed. 

“Amazing,” he spoke.

She smiled and wrapped herself in his arms again.

“It’s helpful, there are some things our magic just can’t do, and this helps with my sight. I’ll teach you all you want,” she promised.

“Okay,” he replied, wondering if she knew just how widely he was smiling.

“I love seeing you smile,” she commented as if she’d heard him.

“You can’t hear me think, can you?” He asked.

“No, but I see you. You’ll see,” she smiled.

He knew everything was going to be okay, somehow.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	4. Epilogue

It was a month later and Hermione had been giving Severus weekly lessons in her back garden. They would listen to music, perform rituals, and sit in silence to commune. He had learned a lot, and she had repeatedly told him how proud of him she was. He found out that it truly was quite difficult for him to open up to this new possibility, but with her help he felt as though he could have done anything. He was amazed at all he could do without his own magic, it felt so freeing. 

“Hermione!” He called.

“Yes, love?” She called back.

“I’ve got the milk, are you ready?”

“In a minute,” she answered.

She met him outside where she stole his breath.

“You look beautiful my dear,” he crooned.

She was wearing the prettiest light yellow sundress and was carrying a big wicker basket full of flowers. 

"Thank you, Severus." She blushed as she kissed his cheek.

He poured the milk into three separate bowls and placed two of them by the entrances to the house. The last was to stay in between them. It was still midday, and they were almost done with their preparations. They had the small bonfire ready to be lit when it got dark. Severus had gotten the mandrake, hellebore, dittany, and oak leaves while Hermione had gathered the sage, dandelions, and yarrow. She summoned the wreathes and garlands they had made with all the different colors of tulips that she grew in her flower beds. They were red, pink, white, yellow, orange, and even blue. The orange, red, and blue garlands were for them to wear and the pink, white, and yellow wreathes were part of their offerings. She had explained to him the significance of each plant they used, and how the colors of the tulips signified different intentions that they had. 

He had never felt such peace in his life as when he held her close while they performed their summer solstice ritual. Their intention had been for healing. She had explained how they would ask for healing from the war and the trauma that they had both endured, but in return they had to show love and sincerity. She explained that the magic worked better between couples, she’d seen her parents do spellwork together and it was always more powerful than when they were apart. She told him how they were showing and celebrating their love, and that that was also part of their offering. He had soaked in every word she said, committing it to memory.

He would never forget the beautiful light that surrounded them and encapsulated them while they started to perform the ritual and all through the night. He saw things he had never thought possible without the magic he had known. After it had ended, she showed him how the bowls of milk were empty. Their offerings were appreciated. He had felt a wave of calmness smooth over him. He had to let down his Occlumency shields in order for him to participate and after that night, he never wanted to put them back up again. After that night, he noticed his Mark start to fade more and more with each passing day. Hermione remarked about how her vision seemed to gradually be getting better as well. 

Each month they performed different rituals, not asking for much, but joining in love and trust each time. And each time they were rewarded with a beautiful display of light and colors as they danced and sang and celebrated. 

In the end, he was glad he had been turned into a Hell Hound, more than he had been before. He felt no different in her eyes. She had seen him for who he truly was anyway, and she decided she loved him whether he was a red-eyed, fork-tailed dog from Hell or the former Death Eater and Potions Master. He hadn’t felt any different as a dog anyway, and he still loved her just the same. All was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> (Sending virtual hugs to you, Corvus💚)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)  
> (Corvus, I hope you don't mind I ended up taking this in a strange direction lol, I do hope you liked it💚)


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